


and they do not move

by sunsoldier



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Ghostbur, Hurt/Comfort, Phil is mentioned he might show up later, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Swearing, everything is platonic obv, mentioned past manipulation, this was pre-fdau dismissal LMAOOOO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsoldier/pseuds/sunsoldier
Summary: Techno finds out about Tommy almost immediately.*Written Pre-16th
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 524





	and they do not move

**Author's Note:**

> hullo! this was written right before the events of the 16th and also before techno said the fdau wasnt canon in dsmp so there’s mentions ov that
> 
> warning for mentions of past manipulation, panic, & swearing
> 
> my tumblr is syrisun btw go say hi

Techno finds out about Tommy almost immediately. How could he  _ not?_ Subtly wasn’t exactly one of the kid’s strong suits- it took him about five minutes upon the disappearance of his sign and more gapples than necessary to deduce that the tunes below his house were coming from his little brother.

He’s not mad- not at first, anyways. A little frustrated about the missing items, sure, but the kid had nothing. Funny as it was, initially, he wasn’t averse to letting Tommy have his spare supplies, and in an effort to be sneaky, he wasn’t  _ terribly _ loud from his carved out den.

His attitude almost changed with the obnoxious ringing of the bell one night, sure, but he still thought a little too long about Tommy living underground in the Arctic climate, uninsulated, and conveniently left a thick blanket strewn in front of his fire place before leaving one morning.

And if when he returned and it was gone, relief briefly crossed his features, it was seen by no one but the paintings on the walls, memoirs to Pogtopia.

He hadn’t actually seen much of Tommy since his exile. He wasn’t terribly worried, as his stance on government was well-known, and if he were being honest, he even thought it could be  _ good _ for Tommy. Time away from that shithole might be what he needed.

And with Wilbur taking care of him-  _ well, some form of Wilbur, anyways_. He paused in his actions, nearly burning his hand on the furnace before reeling back from the heat. But he knew the gentle ghost of their brother wouldn’t just let Tommy waste away.

He checked up on Tommy, that first night. Dropped more hints. Playfully bantered in response to Tommy’s one-sided hatred. Same old kid.

And so, he only squinted from the distance, when Logsteadshire was just conveniently, coincidentally on the way to where he needed to go, seeing the blur of his little brother moving around.

Just checking once in awhile that he was alive.

In hindsight, he should have done more.

Sure, he’d heard Tommy plenty, seen his disappearing items, but it was another thing to actually  _see_ the kid, something that only happened after about a week of Tommy basically hiding out in his basement.

(It did not fly him by that he did not own a basement, and Tommy must have dug out that space himself. He actually spent more time awake at night than he’d like to admit thinking about the circumstances that had led him here, wondering if he should check on Tommy after all. Instead, he leaves out carefully chosen food, never admitting that it was tailored to Tommy’s childhood tastes.)

Still, he wasn’t angry at first, no, just passive, accepting. He was fully aware his brother, at least on the surface, despised him, so coming to greet him just seemed like... a poor idea. At first, anyways.

At first.

But it only took a week, didn’t it? Until Techno forgets to make his footsteps on the porch heard, unlocking the door carefully and stepping inside to lock eyes with his brother, hand on a loaf of bread left on the table.

Techno barely closes the door behind him before they just stare, and  _shit_ , it’s another thing to see him. He’s overtaken with a sudden chill upon seeing his kid brother’s clothes tattered and teared- he’s missing a shoe, the bags under his eyes make him reminiscent of a raccoon, and his face is stricken with fear.

He looks on the brink of  _ death_.

Before he can even start to yell ( _would he have yelled?_ ) Tommy is already moving.

“Shit, sorry,” Tommy begins stripping the shoddy iron armor he’s donning immediately, his hands shaking heavily, tossing them onto the ground with heavy clangs. “Sorry.” 

His voice sounds so broken, and pure bewilderment overtakes Techno.

“...What are you doin’?” Is all that he rumbles out, not unkindly, but Tommy’s head snaps up in an instant, fear-stricken.

Tommy just stutters a little, then rifles through his pockets, thrusting out a flint and steel in Techno’s direction.

“Sorry,” he repeats, just a shaky murmur, voice thick. His eyes are duller, Techno notices, and something falls in the pit of his stomach.

It takes a moment before he collects himself, clearing his throat.

“I don’t need your stuff, Tommy.” He begins, quirking an eyebrow. “If you haven’t noticed, which I  _ know _ you have, I’m well off on my own.”

Tommy’s hand shakes a bit more before a look of confusion, then slightly horrified clarify crosses his face, and he retracts it like he was stung. Techno watches him shove paper into his pocket unsubtly, almost frantically. A compass hangs on a loose chain around his neck.

He nods, looking skittish, gathering his stuff back, glancing up at Techno every few moments.

Then, with it all bundled in his arms, smaller items falling from the pile back to the ground, he tenses even more, staring at Techno with damp eyes.

“Please don’t kill me.”

Techno’s breath hitches, and then he sighs. Finally, finally, he makes a few heavy steps towards his brother, who backs up in pure terror as he raises a slow hand.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he placates, feeling entirely ill. The kid in front of him was far from the cocky, boisterous, sweet brother he grew up with, and for the first time in a while, he feels genuine guilt, then finally, anger.

Tommy notices, too, the way Techno tenses and his gaze hardens, and Techno’s fury just grows at whoever made his oblivious little brother so observant.

“I’m not,” he repeats, taking another careful step, forcing himself to be as gentle as he’s able. He stops, right in front of Tommy, who stares for a moment, and then his shoulders drop, forgotten items clattering to the floor again with clangs that make Tommy wince.

“Uh,” Tommy begins, but cuts himself off. “You’re not mad?”

He’s only sixteen. He still wears braces.

Techno feels sick.

He reaches out a slow, steady hand, and Tommy tracks it warily, and only flinches a bit when it lands lightly on top of his head.

Techno thumbs through Tommy’s matted blond hair.

“You look like shit,” he says, too casually, like it’s an amusing observation, but Tommy crashes into Techno, gripping his cape tightly, and soon lets out a choked noise into Techno’s arm.

_He must be embarrassed, to do this_ , Techno thinks, but Tommy’s dignity seems to be temporarily thrown out the window, clinging to Techno like he hasn’t had gentle human contact in months.

_ Oh. _

Techno just wraps his arms around his brother, stable and firm, but being sure not to press too hard.

He wasn’t usually a very physically affectionate person- Tommy would get hugs from Wilbur, or their dad, and practically cling to Tubbo growing up.

Still, he rests his head on Tommy’s shoulder, his own muscles relaxing a little.

“I miss Wilbur,” Tommy mutters into his cape, a confession, but Techno refuses to acknowledge the weight of the statement.

“Did he leave?” Techno asks quietly, pausing, “You know he’d be overjoyed t’see you.”

“Not him,” Tommy says, and tightens his grip, barely noticeably, but Techno catches it. “Real Wil.”

When Techno says nothing, Tommy trembles again as his voice goes shaky.

“Why do I miss him?” He asks, barely audible.

“Because you’re dumb,” Techno responds, just as gently. He strokes his hair soothingly.

And they leave it at that.

“I miss Phil. I miss Tubbo.”

“They miss you too.”

“You killed him.”

“I did.”

They do not move.

“I hate you.”

“I‘ll live.”

“...Aren’t you gonna say you told me so.”

“I told you so.” Techno’s voice carries no emotion.

Tommy sighs, burying his head once more. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Techno can’t help but breathe out a laugh. “You can try.”

“I will.” Tommy promises, and goes quiet again. “I missed you.”

Techno barely catches the last part, but he does, and he breaks away first to Tommy’s displeasure, laying that initial hand back on his brother’s head and running it through.

“Welcome home, Theseus.”

There. He got it out of his system.

This is not how he imagined it to go.

“Go to bed.”

“Techno-“

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

But Tommy is desperate, and hesitates, but grabs Techno’s cape. “Please don’t tell Dream.”

Techno’s blood boils, but he softens his gaze at his brother, and nods. Tommy drops the cloth, relieved.

“Go to bed.” So he did, stumbling back to the lower floor, forgetting to even scoop up his tattered items.

And Techno was livid.

-

It’s a night and full day before Techno sees Tommy again, in the late evening. Although, that’s not entirely true- he checks up on the kid, a couple of times, just glimpsing at his sleeping form before heading back upstairs, feeling silly. He doesn’t sleep.

When Tommy does return, Techno hears all of it, from the shuffling to the sliding of bricks to the attempt at quiet footsteps up the ladder.

He pretends to busy himself with prodding the fire, only stilling when he can feel Tommy stood across the room, eyes burning into his back.

He gently puts the rod on the rack and rises from his crouched position, turning to see Tommy.

_He’s stiff_ , is the first thing Techno thinks, and it’s true, Tommy’s fists are curled at his sides, knees locked in place, shoulders tight.

Still, Tommy never was good at keeping still, and he fidgets with the end of his tattered shirt with one hand.

“Ey, Bitch!” Tommy says loudly, and his posture does not change, but Techno could almost cry in relief.

Outwardly though, he just lets out a long-suffering sigh, one that causes Tommy to exhale his obnoxiously loud laugh, declaring, “I’m in yo house!”

“I miss Phil,” Techno says dryly, but Tommy is laughing, and he’s tired, and he can’t really will it in himself to be irritated.

-

Techno notices a lot more about Tommy in the following days. 

The first thing he notices is the injuries he’d failed to see the previous night, ushering Tommy to the sitting room despite his defiant protests. He doesn’t particularly care, though, relieved that he still has at least some fight left.

“You need a wash,” Techno comments, holding back a wince as he threads through Tommy’s hair to see the areas of his scalp matted and caked with blood. “Your clothes are disgusting, too, you smell like shit.” 

“You need a wash but for-“ Tommy flinches when Techno’s finger presses into his head in the sore area. “-But for attitude, bitch!” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Techno grumbles. Tommy’s fingers just curl around the edge of the sofa. 

Tommy’s hair is long- it falls in waves against the back of his neck, barely more than chin length, and looking more overgrown and unruly than just long hair like his own. 

Techno mentions this, and Tommy just hums in agreement, still sounding irritated. 

_Let him be_ , Techno thinks, effectively washing most of the dried blood out of his hair. 

“Take a shower when I’m done,” Techno orders, now kneeling down to inspect his leg, “And I’ll cut your hair after.”

“You’re not cutting shit!” Tommy decides, and Techno just peers up at him incredulously.

“...Alright. I’ll show you how to tie it, then.”

Tommy quiets, so Techno assumes that’s fine by him, and turns his attention back to his foot.

It’s red and blistering, and worryingly swollen.

“Tommy,” Techno says, appalled, “When did you lose your shoe?”

“Uh,” Tommy sounds confused, the little shit. “Back in Logsteadshire, some time before I left.”

It finally hits Techno that Tommy trekked through the snow  _ missing a shoe_. Of  _ course _ his foot is fucked up.

“I can’t feel my foot,” he then proudly declares, as if it just came to him and doesn’t particularly concern him. Techno’s palm slaps against his own face in frustration.

“Of course you have frostbite, you stupid asshole.” Techno mutters, and Tommy laughs loudly again.

“I have frostbite!”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

Techno almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. He should be at his own home, or working, with Phil, not tending to his exiled kid brother’s wounds.

“You’re gonna have to soak it,” Techno pauses, “Uh. I think, anyways.”

_ Speaking of Phil, where was he when you need him_, Techno thinks bitterly,  _this is Phil’s thing, not mine_.

As if on cue, there’s a polite knock on the door, and Techno reacts immediately, whipping his head around in relief, missing Tommy’s alarmed expression.

It’s only a moment of respite, though, before he realizes that that wasn’t Phil’s knock.

“Knock knock!” The voice is friendly, and reverberated, and Techno sighs while Tommy’s shoulders slump.

They knock again. “Knock!”

“Techno! I’m knocking!” Knock knock.

“Come in, Ghostbur.” Techno calls out, pressing a thumb into his temple exhaustedly. The door opens and closes with a click, followed by the sound of humming growing closer, echoing against the walls despite his home having no echo at all.

“Techno! And Tommy!” Ghostbur’s gray face lights up, clapping his hands together as he dives towards them, floating near the edge of the couch before settling on it next to Tommy, who has an unreadable but decidedly displeased look on his face. “Oh, it’s so good to see you two, I-“

“Where the FUCK have you BEEN, Wilbur!” Tommy yells at the startled ghost, looking deeply offended. Techno winces at the volume. 

“I-“ Ghostbur looks confused, uncertainty in his white eyes. “I went for a walk and got kind of lost.”

It sounds like an admission, and Techno’s eyebrows furrow, remembering the danger that wet weather put Ghostbur in.

“Why are you out here?” Techno scrutinizes Ghostbur’s face, who looks a little uncomfortable with Tommy’s displeasure. “You didn’t walk in the snow, did you?”

“I did!” His expression turns gleeful, as if he had information he was excited to share. “Dream told me to!”

Techno nearly breaks the skin of his hand with how it tightens, his nails curling into his palm, before he slackens it, exhaling. Tommy looks like he’s about to say something, but he cuts him off.

“Ghostbur,” Techno says slowly, “Why did Dream tell you to take a walk in the snow?”

“The snowy forest, actually!” Ghostbur stays naively cheerful while Tommy looks between his older brothers, conflicted. “He said he wanted to keep me safe. He’s so considerate.”

“Ghostbur,” Techno says again, coolly restrained, “I need you to stay away from him, and not tell him that Tommy’s here, under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

Ghostbur faltered, but eager to please, his smile returned and he nodded easily. “Oh- okay!”

Techno’s thumb dug into his palm and he squeezed his eyes shut until he saw spots. Dream tried to  kill the _scraps_ that were left of his twin brother, and did  _god knows_ _what_ to the younger.

“Okay,” Techno agrees, and he releases hold ofTommy’s foot, rising to go and rummage through his chests in his storage room, pausing when his hands brush over clumps of fabric.

He returns with bundles in his arms, gesturing for Tommy to follow him, who does, hesitantly. 

“You stink,” Techno reminds him, and Tommy scoffs. “Fresh clothes. I’ll take care of your, uh- rags, after.”

Techno turns to leave, but pauses, eyeing the gashes and burns in the tears of Tommy’s clothes.

“Mind your foot. Use lukewarm water. I’ll take care of the other stuff once you’re clean.”

“Okay,” Tommy says solemnly, and Techno leaves, closing the door behind him, slightly unnerved at how quiet his brother is being.

He shakes it off for the moment, though, and heads back to the sitting room to have an extended chat with Ghostbur, from which he only walks away with more questions.

Techno does, however, show Tommy how to tie his hair back, whose eyes shine a little more brightly.

-

The next thing Techno notices is the compass, strung around Tommy’s neck even with the new, warm winter clothes. It’s slightly dirty, and the string it’s connected to is singed and black. Techno offers to replace it, but Tommy insists he thread it himself, which he does, with some difficulty.

“Is that a lodestone compass?” Techno asks, breaking Tommy’s concentrated muttering. His brother pauses.

“Why?” He bites back, and Techno is, once again, surprised at Tommy’s defensiveness over the thing.

It was pretty obvious- to Techno, at least. Beneath the surface grime, it shimmered oddly in the light.

So instead, he asks back, “What’s it pointing to?”

“None of your business.” Tommy is snarky today, and Techno would be annoyed if there weren’t that itch of concern.

He gets up and offers Tommy a wet rag, wordlessly, who takes it, muttering a ‘thank you’ that surprises Techno to no end. As Tommy twists the compass to scrub at it, Techno can make out the words engraved on the side.

“ _Your Tubbo_ ,” he reads them out loud, and Tommy stills completely, knuckles going white in his grip around the object.

“Fuck off,” Tommy says, but it’s weak, as if he’s fearful.

Techno elbows him lightly, an old gesture of peace between them. Tommy almost looks choked up. “It’s alright, Tommy.”

After a moment, he continues rubbing at the metal with the cloth, opening and closing his mouth before admitting, “Wil-Ghostbur gave it to me.”

Techno just makes a small noise of affirmation, signaling to Tommy to keep going. Lucky for him, Tommy can barely go a few moments without talking, so he easily does.

“He gave one to Tubbo, too, that pointed to Logsteadshire.” Something was bitterly sad about Tommy’s tone. “Dream said he burned it.”

Techno pinches his nose. That bastard.

“Tommy,” Techno’s voice was calm, and slow, as if he were talking to a frightened animal, “I don’t think Tubbo did that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy mutters back, bitterly, but there’s something hopeful hidden in his voice. “Why’s that?”

“Tommy, how do you burn a compass?”

Tommy flinched as though he’d been shocked, nails scraping against the side of the metal briefly. He stayed staring down at his lap, his movements finally stopping.

“...Ranboo did say it was an accident. Charged creeper.” Tommy gulped, looking like a war was raging behind his eyes. Techno waited, breath baited, after mentally noting Ranboo’s honesty.

Tommy just set the rag aside, though, and finally thread the string through the tip of the compass correctly. “Dream was the only one to visit for weeks.”

“Was anyone allowed to visit?”

Tommy just continues, pulling the thing over his head, “I didn’t see Tubbo once.”

For now, he knew, Techno couldn’t say a thing.

-

The most jarring thing Techno noticed about Tommy was the terror. It came and went, stayed static underneath his skin, jumped out at random intervals, and overtook the kid if anything was just a little bit off.

It was unnatural. Unfamiliar. He hated it.

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be  _ skittish _ in the first place, and yet, there Techno had to be, running after his brother who was sprinting down the tunnel away from a simple room with a few chests.

The Final Control Room, as it was labelled. Tommy had only followed Techno in for a moment, eyes locked on the floor in the middle of the room as if something were missing from it, some monster made to terrorize him, before darting back the way he came.

Tommy was in a state of panic Techno hadn’t seen since he’d released the Withers, chest heaving with gasps as if he couldn’t get enough air in, yelling nonsense about the room and getting away.

“What happened in that room, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head rapidly, pressing up against the stone wall as the water trickled past them. It smelled awful.

“That’s not- that’s not something I wanna talk about just yet- it’s a part of-“ Tommy cut himself off repeatedly, as if struggling for the right words.

What could Techno say to him?

“It’s fine, Tommy,”  _ real helpful_. “Healing is a long process, it doesn’t happen in a day, it’s fine.”

_Phil’s thing_ , Techno thinks, feeling useless.

Techno wanted to put a hand on his shoulder or a supportive arm around him to stabilize him, but he was afraid of Tommy getting more freaked out by the contact, so he stayed close by, talking quietly in a voice more calm than he felt.

He knew things were improving when Tommy slammed a hand against his own chest, ironically. Tommy’s eyes were screwed shut, feeling the thud of his own hammering heart against his palm, a self-soothing practice he’d used since he was a kid. Something about the steady beat of his own heart calmed him even when it pounded- a reminder that he was alive, despite all circumstances, that his heart was still dutifully pumping out blood.

Techno allowed himself to rest a hand on Tommy’s shoulder now, slinking to the floor beside him, who looked like he was calmer now, hand still firm against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he says again, as if that helps any, but Tommy’s shoulders slump a little, so he counts it as a success.  


The sewage flowed past, as it tended to do. And they did not move. 

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading :D first time posting and I’m nervous esp coz I don’t rlly like this but I wanted 2 post it anyways.
> 
> should I write more or keep it as a oneshot...? or maybe make this a series of oneshots abt what goes on in the arctic? honestly I’ll just do more if anyone wants me 2 :]


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